


Scarf

by this_kills_the_man



Series: infidget: its big gay time [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: I need more of these two, M/M, Short, So bad, also: no ship o r character tag, can u tell i have a great Sadness in my heart, shortshortshort, update: the ao3 ppl have added a tag and god bless them theyre the best, yall i be busting these out like im on fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 06:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12184824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_kills_the_man/pseuds/this_kills_the_man
Summary: The scarf,hisscarf, is right there, it’s so close, and it’s on him, but the wrong him, a different him.Gadget gets an ugly reminder.





	Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is from tumblr but i decided to crosspost on here too /shrug  
> again its short af but isnt like all my oneshots lmao

It’s his scarf.

Time stops, slows to a crawl, and Gadget feels the oxygen in his lungs spill out, burst his lungs open, Jell-O flooding in where there used to be sweet, sweet air so that his chest jiggles and shudders every time he tries to breathe in. It’s no use, to breathe, there’s no conceivable way, not when that little strip of fabric caught his eye out of the thousands of gallons of fire raining from the sky, and now he can’t look anywhere else. The scarf, _his_ scarf, is right there, it’s so close, and it’s on him, but the wrong him, a different him.

It’s his scarf.

Infinite is wearing his scarf.

_It’s for you!_

Gadget sees the scarf, he sees Infinite wearing the scarf, and he freezes, blood ice cold and bones brittle, feet stuck to the ground, soles five feet under, hooked beneath the concrete and dragging him down. He can’t hear anything; it’s all white noise, the static of a television.

The scarf fits so neatly around his neck, under his chin, beneath the mask. White, pristine, a shining beacon amongst the dirt and scratches and strange blips and tears pulling apart his body. He stands there, menacing, and Gadget can’t stop looking at his scarf, can’t stop thinking about how he can’t find a single imperfection on it.

Does he know? Does he remember?

There’s a chill down his spine, a shaking, like a leaf, and when he looks up from his neck to his face he sees Infinite staring right back at him.

_...What am I looking at?_

_Dude! It’s a scarf!_

_You sure about that?_

_Hey!_

Gadget doesn’t know what to do. Everything’s upside down and the weapon in his hand stings, burns, sizzles against his palm, his own body rejecting the notion of holding it up and taking aim. Attacking felt wrong; staring felt wrong; the distance between them felt _wrong_. Gadget should be by his side. They should be together. One unit, not two. Not separate.

_Just pulling your leg. I love it._

He wishes, as he stares into the one eye not obscured by the mask, the one pool of gold, the one organic and real, living, _breathing_ remnant of his friend, that he could just close that gap and slap him, smack the nonsense out of him, rip the jewel off his chest and chuck it away, far away, where it can’t hurt him anymore, bury his face into his chest and sob, scream. He wants that, wants to show him his hurt and show him how stupid this all is, but he knows that’s a death wish. There’s no point. He sees no solace in that eye; the smacking and screaming and crying would only earn him a kick to the side, not the gentle combing through his fur that he clung to in his memories, in his dreams.

At the very least, he wants the scarf back.

—

“It’s for you!” The cotton spills over his fingers as Gadget slaps it on his hand, eyes brighter than moonshine and smile filled with crinkles and mirth.

He looks down, looks at the even weave, the little squares one over the other making up the fabric’s texture, the way it, the cotton, brushes against the fur on his wrist where it pools out of his hand, fluffy and expansive and probably far too warm for late September weather, and for a moment he’s not sure what he’s looking at.

 “Gadget. Buddy. Quick question.”

“Yeah?”

“...What exactly am I looking at?”

 _“Dude!_ ” Gadget says, hand clutched to his chest in a faux display of hurt. “It’s a scarf!”

 “Are you sure?”

_“Hey!”_

He cuts in before Gadget can say anything else—the way his eyes scrunch up, the way his nose twitches just a little, the furious wagging of tail, these are all signs that he’s about to launch off on a tangent—by placing a hand on his shoulder, soft, stopping Gadget with a feather’s touch. “Just pulling your leg. I love it.”

The tension between Gadget’s brows washes away, the sun filling his smile until its brilliance near blinds him. “Really?”

“Of course.”

He wants to say something else, to thank him, but his heart leaps out of his mouth when Gadget pulls him into a hug, senses flooded with everything Gadget, the smell of raspberries on Gadget’s breath, the mint tickling the tips of his fur from the soap he uses.

He huffs, small, indiscreet, and rests his cheek on Gadget’s shoulder. He can always thank him later. For now, this is more than enough.


End file.
